Welcome to Gaia! ::

After procuring the freezing enchantment she had been after so that she would finally at least be of some use in a less-than-wholly-physical confrontation, Rose had returned to her bed - not an occupation she generally relished, but one that, as a week of sleeplessness had proven to her, was necessary.

She awoke with a shriek, fully transformed and surrounded by the tatters of her bed linens. She snarled briefly at the gray constraints, eyes wild and feral before, with a pained, muted shriek, she managed to pull herself back to reality.

"Dream," she muttered, sweating into the receding patches of fur so that she itched uncomfortably all over. "Dream, dream dream dream. ********." Rose finally took in her surroundings, registering the bland decor with a slowly softening expression and a particular Seal song running through her head for reasons unknown. Softening not to warmth, but to static placidness. Likely, the Cabal already knew, but no need to go around advertising that she was still less than pleased about her introduction to the Coalition.

As quietly and briskly as possible, she rolled out of bed, gingerly picking pieces of it out of her hair, and noticed with mild displeasure that she was no longer clothed. A quick check through the closet revealed her claws and a black, unisex uniform. Rose couldn't suppress a wry smirk. The constraints of unisex clothing had yet to have any effect on her personal mobility.

Finally, ignoring her pangs of hunger, she went to the door and stood in front of it, staring blankly. An agent of the Cabal. Tethered to its might, and part of it. And for now... that leash had been lengthened, even if she still was somewhat uncertain as to why. A glint sparked in her eye, she turned the handle, and her feet carried her into the hallway...

...to see Victor, standing nude in his doorway, not ten feet to her side. She blinked at him, wondering briefly why his nakedness didn't stimulate as submissive a reflex in her as when werebeasts had done the same, looked down, and was no longer confused. Without taking any further notice than that, she made her obeisance both to him and Morgan, and followed the latter to the main room, where she sat quietly at an angle from him, awaiting the others.

"Food it is then," Victor said, "since I guess we're waiting to get briefed. Come on, let's grab some grub." He turned and then realized that he had been speaking to Johnstone the entire time. "Actually, you wait here. I'll go get food. Without you." He was not particularly enthused to share a meal with the Resurrected, so he left without him.

Victor returned two minutes later with a plate loaded with eggs, country gravy, wild rice, hash browns, and a piece of jellied toast that he was just popping into his mouth. "Your turn," he said to Johnstone when he finished chewing. Good food seemed to put Victor in a good mood.

Victor leaned over Rose and grabbed her juice, taking a good swallow from it before putting it back. "Good stuff," he sighed. He glanced down at the weregirl. "What's your issue, chick?" he asked quietly, popping a forkful of eggs and gravy into his mouth.

"Gee thanks," Victor said with playful sarcasm. He was still waiting on an answer from Rose, but if she didn't want to say anything that was fine with the Shadowmage. In the meantime, he pulled out his cup of orange juice and drank.

Victor heard the sound of a voice that didn't grate on his nerves right away. That was new. And when one is blind, then the sound of someone's voice can be your vision of them.

He turned his magical gaze on her. Lots of fiery energy, focused at the moment by a lot of rage. Victor raised an eyebrow in interest as he became aware that she was also without makeup and hair-done, and apparently didn't give a ********, at that. The Shadowmage liked that. She seemed fiery. He made up his mind.

I'd tap that.

He stood and set his plate off to one side. "That's what I'm trying to find out," he said to her, advancing. "Though none of us here really know what the mission is. I assume we're onboard the Devestator, though. Since that's what we were all recruited for." Now within arm's reach of Jenny, he put out a hand.

"Victor le Treu," he said softly, smiling slightly.

"No worries," he said in a stage whisper. "We all woke up naked." Scattered snickers from Morgan and Jace, who had just entered. Which reminded Victor, he needed to talk to Jace about starting Panzermagus training, which directly tied in with what Jennifer had just been asking.

Oh yeah, Jennifer. Magic training could wait; Victor was trying to work a different magic. "I'm a Shadowmage," he said proudly. "Attack and mobility specialty. I'm getting pretty good at Shadowstepping too; I've always had a talent for making things go in, then come out." Jennifer got the feeling that Victor was winking, despite his lack of visible eyes.

"And what about you? What's your specialty?" He had purposely not told her that he was a Unified soldier. There were still some people, even among the Cabal, that didn't particularly like the Unified project, and he didn't want to drop too much on her at once.

Jenny blinked, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment. Was he... flirting? No. There was no way that anyone could really be that obvious about it. Then again... if he was, she could have some fun with this. Not that she'd understood most of what he'd told her about his abilities.



What kind of mentor are you? You should be more encouraging. "Gosh. I was under the impression that it was a figure of speech," she told Morgan, her tone lightly acidic, "Silly me. And I'm an Elementalist," she added to Victor, turning her attention completely back to him, "I've always liked making things burn; magic makes it easier." She wasn't mentioning her +1 if she could help it; from what little she knew about how this gig worked, others magic users were likely to be less than understanding. "I do a little shadow work, too, but it's strictly defensive at the moment." Should she mention that she was sort of a Shadowman, too? One who skipped out before the completion of her training? ... Better not.